Unvarnished Truth - 1917 Ford Model T

A family heirloom Model T that keeps delighting generations of children

Feature Article from Hemmings Classic Car

She was just a fourth-grader when she first saw her grandfather's 1917 Ford Model T depot hack, but that initial impression has stayed with Lori Baronas through the years. "That was definitely a different car," she said. "We grew up around antique cars--we had one that had a rumble seat, and another that had a center door. This was--what do I call it? Rustic. Very basic. Odd! It was an odd one," she says with a laugh.
"But it was neat that it could fit so many people. This car, you could just pile a bunch of kids in," she recalls. Today, the depot hack, now in Lori's care, looks "not so odd" in her eyes. The last traces of protective varnish may have deserted the tall, squared-off wooden body, the rusted steel of the fenders may be peeking out through the cracks in the original paint, and the tattered leather seat cushions may be hiding under four-decade-old cotton covers, but the Model T continues to put smiles on the faces of children and adults alike who get invited along for a memorable ride on a summer evening.
In return for its years of reliable service, the Ford has demanded nothing but to be kept out of the elements. "It really has never had any work," Lori says. "It's had some minor adjustments, but nothing major has been done to it. We store it all winter long, and when we pull it out, a few cranks and it starts right up." Really? No repairs? "No, nothing," Lori repeats. "Well, we wash it before we take it to the car shows."
Back in 1917, if you wanted a depot hack, Ford would sell you a chassis for $325, and one of dozens of builders would supply the body. Lori has never found a maker's mark on the body of the Model T, and has seen just one other like it, on display outside a brewery in Plattsburgh, New York. So far as she knows, her car was originally owned by a resident of northern Vermont or New Hampshire, and was at some point put into service bringing cases of Hiram Walker Canadian Club whiskey from the train station to bars, restaurants and liquor stores. It was eventually purchased by two Greenfield, Massachusetts, men, Art Lashier and Sigmund Schatz, who were friends of Lori's family.
"Siggy and Al got into some kind of argument, and decided to sell the car," Lori said. Her grandfather, George Mattis, an aerospace worker who also dealt in antiques, bought the car; it was he who put the printed cotton cloth over the seats, and rolled up the side curtains with player piano rolls tucked inside, to help them keep their shape. "My grandfather was a big music nut," Lori confides.
When George's work took him to Cape Canaveral, Florida, he loaned the car to a local museum. But Lori's great-uncle got a shock when he dropped by the museum: The doors were closing, and the depot hack was up for sale. He relayed the news to George, who told Lori's parents that, if they wanted the car, they had better go and get it. Fortunately, the museum recognized their ownership, and relinquished the car to them in 1965.
All through Lori's childhood years, the family enjoyed the car. "We used to just bang around in it," she said. "It was just used for fun. We'd take it for ice cream and so on." Best of all, it was a treat that lots of children could enjoy at the same time. Lori vividly recalls visits by an aunt and uncle whose 11 children clamored for turns on the family's trampoline; keeping things orderly required each child's turn to be timed with a watch with a second hand. But the Ford presented no such problems. "It was so easy with the car, because you could take so many people in it. A couple of trips, and everyone would have a ride."
The garage at Lori's parents' house was not quite tall enough to swallow the Ford, so "we had to get everyone to stand on the back of it to get it out under the garage doors," she recalls. She also remembers her father driving the car through the shallows of a pond in nearby Northfield, Massachusetts, to keep the wooden artillery wheels from shrinking and cracking. Those original wheels are still on the car today. Lori and her husband, Ray, became the full-time custodians of the depot hack 10 years ago, when Lori's parents retired to Florida. They take it out as often as possible, at least once a month during the summers, and put it into service during family reunions, when everyone wants a ride. An ice cream truck has nothing on the Model T when it comes to drawing a crowd of neighborhood children. "We're doing the same thing with it that we did as kids," she says.
There's an air of permanence about the car, as if its steel, iron and wood are able to shrug off the effects of time. When Ray gives the 89-year-old crank a spin, it requires only three tries before the 176.7-cu.in. cast-iron four chugs to life. It's easy to see why all the kids want a ride as Ray points the nose of the Ford out onto the quiet streets of South Deerfield. Sitting up high on the simple bench, with a commanding view of the road and a cooling breeze blowing through the open bodywork, this is an experience that's become all too rare. What the four lacks in horsepower--22.5--it makes up for in torque, the 83-lbs.ft. easily hauling the depot hack up to a comfortable cruising speed somewhere between 35 and 40 mph. It has to be an estimate, because there's no speedometer, or any other kind of gauge.
"The kids love to blow the bulb horn," Lori says with a smile. "They want to look underneath the car, and see what the engine's like, because they've never seen anything like it." Lori is president of the Connecticut Valley region of the Antique Automobile Club of America and the Vintage Motor Car Club of America, and she's on a mission to expose another generation to the simple joys of a vintage car. "You have to regenerate the interest in these old things, or else they're going to be lost," she says.
There's not much chance of the Model T becoming lost, though. "This car will never go out of the family, if I have anything to say about it," Lori promises.

This article originally appeared in the October, 2006 issue of Hemmings Classic Car.